The Wonderful Thing About Trager
by Siarh
Summary: Tig's trying to figure out why he wakes up next to who he wakes up to one morning. Flashback smut. Rated M for Trager Mouth and Adult Situations... its Tig... what do you think this story is about?
1. New Girl

**AN: Been a while, I know. Thanks to alot of people for kicking my ass repeatedly until I got back on this horse. Lots of love ladies. You know who you are. **

Keeping his eyes tightly closed, Tig rubbed a hand over his eyes while the other tugged on his curls. He stretched out under the sheet that was draped over him. God his head hurt, bad. What the fuck had he done last night? He guessed the better point was what didn't he do last night? He was used to all manner of morning/day after aches and pains but this was by far one of the worse ones he had had in a long time.

Tig was fairly certain nothing on his body didn't hurt. Oh wait, he thought to himself as he smoothed his hand over his stomach and brushed his fingers over his cock, causing it to stir. No, there was definitely a part of him that felt pretty damn good this morning.

Eyes still closed it took him a second to realize he was sharing a bed with someone. Pictures of faces on his pillows flashed behind his eyes but none of them seemed to jive a memory from last night. He wasn't terribly concerned as he rolled over towards the warmth he felt beside him. He stretched an arm out and his fingers curled around a bony hip, squeezing the backside flesh. He heard an audible swallow and a soft sigh as Tig let his eyes drift open, slowly, as if he was sure any amount of light through his pupils was going to cause instantaneous death or worse searing pain. His eyes flew open as his focused on the face buried in the pillow next to him.

Juice.

Tig yanked his arm back as if Juice's hip burned his palm. His mind whirled. He tried to to make this right in his head. He hoped for a glimpse through a blacked out memory that would clarify why Juice was in his bed. Wasn't that Tig had never bedded a dude before. But he had never bedded a brother.

He loved his brothers. He loved them as if they were part of his own flesh. Despite his exterior of a tough grouchy no nonsense Sergeant-at-Arms, he could admit the deep love he had for the men who wore the same cut as he did. But this... this broke one of only a handful of rules Tig had left when it came to sex. Never fuck a brother, literally. With the amount of available pussy, he never needed to. If Tig needed a little companionship, there was always a crow eater near by just waiting to be led down to the bedroom in the back of the clubhouse. Or into the bathroom, or behind the bar, or against the pool table. Or...

Tig's dick hardened at the thought of the last woman he bent over the pool table. What the hell was her name? He couldn't remember. She was a new gash in the club. Dark wavy hair, killer rack and an ass that he wanted to take a bite out of since the day she walked through the door with Connie, one of the regulars.

And one day she was bent over that pool table, aiming for a shot she would never make despite her bravado to the contrary. And Tig couldn't take it any more, he had been ogling that ass half the night and it was time he did something about it. He slammed his beer on the bar and walked to her. Settling his bulk behind her, pressing his legs to hers, he bent over her, his body mirroring her exact stance. His hands sliding over her body and up her arms, settling over her fingers wrapped around the pool cue.

He brought his mouth to her ear and felt her shudder as he sighed into it. "C'mon sweetheart," he had mumbled. "I think you and I need to quit playing."

Never releasing her hand on the pool stick, she arched into him. practically purring as he ran his hands back down her arms, settling them over her hips, drawing her back against his tightening groin. Hands still around the pool cue, she leaned her head against his shoulder, exposing her neck to him. Tig swept all of the hair over to the other side, her creamy white neck begging to be marked. He sunk his teeth into her, making her gasp, partly in pain, partly in pleasure

This bitch was good to go. He knew she wasn't going to give up much of a fight, not if she wanted to continue to spend time at the club. His hands on her hips skidded down her thighs guiding her skirt up over the round of her ass. She did nothing but whimper and sigh, her cheek molding itself to his palm.

Goddamn this bird was ready. Tig hooked one finger under the back strap of her thong and yanked, feeling the thin gauzy material tear under his steady grip. She did nothing but gasp as the material fell from her body. Tig continued to push his luck and quickly undid his belt, his cock eager to get out from behind the metal cage of his zipper. His jeans dropped to his knees and he shucked his shorts down his legs.

Pumping one hand around his cock, the other delved between this chick's legs, quickly finding her slicker than any lubrication they used on their bikes. The viscous warm liquid hit his fingers and made his cock twitch in envy.

Out of his peripheral view he saw an arm appear and disappear, fingers glancing off the rail by the girl's hips. Tig nodded his thanks to Chibs who had deposited a foil packet there on his way by with a fresh set of beers for himself and the girl he was working on in the corner. It was only then that Tig remember he was still in the main part of the club house, with all of his brothers and their old ladies and the crow eaters all there. Watching.

Fuck em all. He didn't care. Let 'em watch. All his mind cared about was the tight wet body in front of him, who was begging to be fucked. He half wondered if he was gonna be the first brother to tap this bitch. He was fairly certain he wasn't. But it didn't matter. They had all been in most of the girls in the room.

One hand still digging between her thighs, his fingers buried deep in the girl, the other snagged the condom that he tore with his teeth.

And he paused.

He had very little choice, if he wanted to get in this chick, he was going to have to pull his hand out of her cooch and slick on the condom. But hell he didn't want to move his hand anywhere, the way she was moaning and gripping at the table top.

Suddenly the condom was plucked from his hand and he readied a snarled comment until he watched as Connie dropped to her knees next to him. Her lips wrapped around his cock as she pulled the condom out of the wrapper, dropping the trash to the floor without a second thought, something he would have a word with her about later.

Tig's eyes shut tight against the new sensation. His dick had been ready to be stuffed up in this tight sweetbutt, not be sucked by some championship cock sucker. God Connie had a mouth on her. He always swore she could suck a golf ball through a garden hose. His head fell back, his hand tangled in her blonde hair as she deep throated him once... twice... three times. Fuck if this bitch kept it up he would be blowing his load down her throat and not all up in her girlfriend.

Sensing his dilemma, Connie sat back on her heels, drawing her mouth off him. With practiced ease she smoothed the condom over him and deposited a kiss on the tip, her lips in a perfect O shape.

His dick jumped as she grabbed him around the base, pulling him towards the new girl's pussy, lining the head of his cock up with his still probing fingers.

"Give it to her, daddy," Connie mumbled against his shoulder. "Show her what that dick can do."

And with a resounding smack against the other girl's ass, Connie backed away and rejoined Half Sack and Happy in the corner, her eyes still on Tig's.

He smiled at her wickedly and slid into the girl as he drew his fingers out. It was a strange sensation the tug and pull of her pussy, reluctant to give up his fingers but welcoming his cock at the same time.

She gasped sharply below him as he touched bottom. It was a noise he heard often, one he would truly never tire of hearing. Told him how deep he was, and the surprised nature of the sound told him he was in a part of her pussy that no one else had ever found, and probably no one else ever would.

With eyes tight as he relished in the feel of her body, Tig's fingers tightened around her hips, pulling her tighter against him, stretching that tiny slit of hers just a bit more. He watched her fingers curl against the felt of the table and knew he'd get hell from the boys if she ripped up the green material. That shit wasn't easy to replace. He felt her pussy ripple around him, her muscles impossibly tight around him.

Goddamn this broad felt good.

Tig flexed his hips, making sure to not aim as deep. Last thing he needed was this chick to decide play time was over, especially in front of the whole club. He eased up and was pleased to feel her curl her ass up, tucking it against him.

His hand skidded over her flank, skipping over her clothed torso and wrapped his thick fingers around her neck. She was...Goddamn she was tiny. She felt tiny around his cock, she felt tiny in his hand. Small. Vulnerable. Tig knew he could twist his two hands in opposite directions and she would fall into a pile of sticks at his feet.

His balls tightened at the thought. He didn't always mix torture with his sex. You had to find just the right girl for that kind of shit, one that wasn't gonna go running off to the cops two seconds after you let her put her clothes back on and claim you raped her. But he did like the idea of taking someone as tiny as this girl and twist her to everything his sick brain could muster.

He felt her swallow, her throat bobbing below his palm. As he squeezed her a little tighter he could feel... feel... every breath and every pant as she tried to suck oxygen into her lungs. If he wanted to, Tig could cut off this girl's air, end her life. He hadn't fucked a still warm dead girl before. His cold packing had always been just that-cold.

Tig opened his eyes and brought his mind's focus back to the girl below him. Standing on the toes of her ridiculously high fuck me boots, she fought for balance against his every move. She had one hand poised against the rail of the pool table. the other was wrapped around his meaty wrist at her throat, barely spanning the front of his cuff.

He heard hoots, hollers, and low whistles from his brothers as he managed to throw the girl's thighs and knees against the table in front of her. He didn't look around but he could almost feel the shit eating grins on most of the members' faces. Clay and Piney were probably ignoring him, rolling their eyes at each other at yet another stupid Trager Trick. Half Sack was probably aghast, mouth open, blush on those cute little red fuzz covered cheeks of his.

With a silent curse, Tig felt his cum boil up from his balls at the thought of Half Sack's baby cheeks. He dropped his hand from her throat, shaking her hand from him, and grabbed at her hips, yanking her hard against him, as he emptied himself deep in her. He felt a small shudder, maybe a flutter run through her body, and didn't bother to take note if it was because she came or if she was just glad his ride was over.

As his hips flexed one last time, he groaned and leaned down, burying his face in her tousled waves. He laid there for a bit, not wanting to move. Until he heard the round of applause, followed by piercing wolf whistles. He stood from her, and saw that a beer and a shot magically appeared on the rail. Nodding his thanks to the Prospect, Tig reached to knock the whiskey back, slating his thirst, as he was still balls deep in this chick.

God damn he loved this club.

He stepped back from the girl, his face smug and pleased as she quickly leaned against the table, her thighs parting. He could see her pussy, angry red, wet and swollen. Girl had taken it like a champ, had to give her that.

Tig kissed her shoulder, only to realize it was the first time he had kissed any part of her body during this whole time. "Got something for ya," he said.

She looked at him over her shoulder, her eyes wide, concerned he wanted another round. He held up the spent condom, hovering it over her hand. She paused, leaving her palm flat on the table, looking at him as if he had lost his mind. Tig just looked at her with his crystal blue eyes, feigning innocence in their silent battle of wills until she turned her hand over and he dropped the prophylactic in her hand.

"I'll treasure it always," she said softly, sarcasm tinging the edge of her words.

"As you should darlin," he assured her, pulling his pants back on properly. "As you should."

But that was 4 days ago, he thought to himself, laying on the bed in his apartment. And those memories were all well and good but Tig still didn't have a clue what the fuck Juice was doing in his bed. And he was almost afraid to ask.


	2. Daddy's Girl

AN: Ii am new to the fandom, only been watching for 10 days now. I'm just ending season 3. I know my timeline is off. Chibs's family was not in the States when Sack was still around. Please just bear with me and ignore the discrepancy. Also I went back and changed the name of the crow eater in chapter 1, so its not the same as Chibs's daughter...who for all intents and purposes is legal in this tale.

* * *

Groaning and rolling over away from Juice's softly snoring form, Tig thought about how he may have never literally fucked a brother but he had figuratively fucked more than one of them over the past few years.

_"Get goin'," he had said, nudging the shoulder next to him with his own. She made a soft noise and raised her face from the pillow. Her face was framed with messy dark curls. And she looked at Tig with his eyes._

_Tig had tried hard to avoid those eyes all night last night. He fucked her every which way that kept those soul searching eyes hidden from his own. And now, she was staring at him, dejected and a bit hurt._

_"W'r am I supposed ta go, dere now, Tig?" she asked, her voice thick with sleep and accent._

_He groaned and threw his arm over his face and scooted over to the other side of the bed. "I don't really care, doll. Anywhere but here."_

_Rolling onto her side, she faced him. "I came here cuz I have no place else to go, now do I?"_

_Tig sat up abruptly and threw back the covers. He settled his feet on the floor and scrubbed his fingers in his hair. "That's not really my problem," he said harshly. "Look I gave you a place to sleep-"_

_Kerriannesat up abruptly with a snort. "Didn't really give me much o' chance to sleep last night now did ye?" she said sharply._

_Tig just shook his head and stood up. He reached for his smokes on the desk, grabbing one and his lighter. "Look chica," he started as he put the cigarette between his lips. He cupped his hand around his lighter, sparking it to life. Drawing smoke into his lungs, he tossed the zippo back to the desk before looking at her. "Just get your ass gone before one of the brothers see you here, alright? Last thing I need is your old man giving me shit for nailing his little girl." Tig picked up the glock on his desk and cleared the chamber. "You got what you wanted." Whatever it was. Some sort of one up on mommy and daddy. Some sort of rebellion. Ran away from home to fuck one of daddy's friends. Yeah this was going to go over well. _

_As he sunk onto the chair by the desk, Kerriannerose to her feet, allowing the sheet that didn't seem to have seen the inside of a washing machine in longer than she wanted to guess to be cast aside. Tig tried to ignore her naked form, looking instead at the overflowing ashtray on his desk. He had seen countless women naked, in all shapes and sizes, all array shades. And he loved everything about women._

_But he was always a sucker for legs. God the longer the better. And shapely. Nothing he loved more than a gorgeous pair of long legs wrapped around his ears, his hips. And Kerriannehad a lovely pair. Just like her mama._

_Tig swallowed hard as he gazed at Chib's 18 year old daughter, a girl he had known of since she was a baby. Watching her olive skinned legs headed toward him, he knew as his eyes drifted up her curves he needed to get her the fuck out of his room before someone else saw her here. She had called him late last night, saying she needed to be picked up, and he hadn't questioned much. Figured she had another fight with her ma. He brought Kerrianneback to the club house, set her up in one of the spare rooms and tried to leave it at that. But she had other ideas. Little minx found her way into his bed at some point. And she was right, they didn't get much sleep after that._

_Now in the early morning light, Kerrianne stood in front of him, and looked down at Tig through her lashes. She went to throw her leg over his lap, her eyes on his face. He shook his head and grabbed her hips, turning her letting her face away from him. What the fuck was he doing? he thought to himself, as she wrapped her tiny hand around his dick._

_His fingers flexed against her hips as she slowly lowered herself over him. Tig fought against his muscles' automatic respond to pull the girl down on him fully. Being all leg, her feet sat flat on the floor giving her plenty of leverage to work herself on his cock._

_Kerrianne leaned forward, laying her palms flat on Tig's knees as she slowly rocked her hips against him, fucking him in slow steady circles. His head rolled back on his shoulders as he groaned softly This girl was going to kill him. He was not sure he was up for slow and steady. Especially not in this position. Pulling on her hips he tried to convince her to move at a steadier pace. He groaned as he felt her muscles flex around his prick. Tucking his lip under his teeth, Tig held her in place and arched up, fucking her at a steadier pace, punishing hercunt with each stroke, resulting in a steady chorus of breathy moans._

_Tig was just building up a nice rhythm when he heard voices in the hallway. Shit other brothers were up. It was too late to try to sneak Kerrianneout now. He was going to have to think of some other way to get her out of this room. But first he needed to finish what she started ._

_Sliding one hand up her back, he pushed her forward, making her pussy narrow around him. With a sharp groan, his hand moved back to her hip as he drove into her with a punshing speed. As he felt his balls twitch, the door to his room popped open._

_"Fuck, man," he groaned, rolling he is head to the side, opening his eyes to focus on the face in the doorway._

_"Ye motherless lowlife," Chibs growled from the door making Kerrianne jump._

_"What the fuck do ye think ye are doing, CarrieAnn?" Chibs growled. "Yer mother is worried sick about ye and yer off here slumming-"_

_"Hey!" Tig protested. "I am still in the room you know." He pushed the girl off of his lap, sending her stumbling back toward the bed._

_Her father stepped into the room, his jaw clenched, his eyes only on Tig as the girl scrambled for something to put on._

_"Aww c'mon man," Tig tried, not even making an attempt to cover his nakedness. "She... this ain't my fault."_

_The other man knocked him out of the chair, sending Tig sprawling across the hardwood floor. Chibs stood over Tig, who just rolled his eyes. "You really need to take it down a notch," he insisted._

_"A notch?" Chibs mocked. Without a second thought, he kicked Tig in the stomach._

_"Da!" Kerrianne yelled as he moved his leg back for another brutal kick. But Tig was ready for this kick and managed to twist Chibs leg at an odd angle. The other man bellowed in pain and landed on the floor. Tig attempted to slug him but laying half on your side was not very conducive for an effective punch. His knuckles glanced off Chibs's cheek serving to only piss the man off further._

_Suddenly there was an onslaught of heavy footsteps into the room. Other bodies wedged their way into the tussle, pulling the two men up and apart._

_"Let me at'm," Chibs demanded, struggling against the strong hands on him._

_"You just jealous?" Tig asked, arching his hips out as far as he could with Opie and Bobby pulling him back. "You wanna taste, Chibby boy? Cuz all ya had to do was ask."_

_The Scottish man growled and struggled against Jax and Happy's hold as they dragged him out of the room._

_"Get your fucking clothes on," Clay called to Kerrianne, his finger pointing at her. "And go home with your father." He turned his attention to Tig. "And you! Put your dick away before it can get you into any more trouble."_

His dick always did have that skill. Tig couldn't help but laugh at Clay's words echoing through his head as he laid next to a snoring Juice.


	3. Midwestern flavor

AN: Another tale of another of Tig's bed fellow of yesteryear.

* * *

As he sat on the edge of the bed, he hazarded another quick glance at his bed partner. It was then he noticed Juice's outstretched hand loosely wrapped around one of the columns of the headboard. Tig winced and looked away at the handcuff that has rubbed the younger man's wrist raw.

Fuck.

What had happened?

Wasn't as if the thought of fucking the young kid from Brooklyn raw hadn't popped into Tig's mind a time or two. That didn't bother him. What did bother him was not remembering shit about last night. It has been a long long time since that had happened.

_Tig cracked open his heavy eyelids. His eyes were greeted by darkness and he wasn't 100% sure where he was. The only two things he was certain of #1 he was in a bed. And #2 he wasn't alone. And he was fairly convinced he was still stoned._

_Groaning softly he focused on the pleasant sensations blossoming. Someone was diligently sucking his cock, with some skill he had to admit. _

_Reaching a hand out, Tig aimed for where the mouth was applying just the right amount of pressure on his junk. It was then that the room briefly filled with a stunningly bright light where Tig was able to see Turner, one of the newest members in the platoon sucking him off with reckless abandon._

_Turner had just hit the Jungle two days ago. Quiet and unassuming. Was from somewhere in the Midwest, Tig remembered. Kid looked like your average corn fed momma's boy, coming over to so his duty and serve against the hostiles that were no real threat to the United States._

_Tig was halfway through his second invasion of some hostile Central American country. Or was it South American this time? Hell if he could remember his own name at times. _

_He had drummed up a big brother complex as soon as he laid eyes on Turner. The boy really wasn't all that different from all the other new recruits, but just something about him grabbed Tig who knew if he didn't look out for Turner, no one would._

_Looked like Tig chose his newest buddy well. Who knew Midwest boys could suck cock better than most coke whores?_

_Tig's groan of recognition and lust was cut off instantly by a loud boom that shook the whole camp._

_The siren signaling the guerrillas were attacking sounded, as if they has somehow missed the mortar striking in the heart of the camp. Turner pulled off Tig and stared around like a startled rabbit, looking for his burrow to hide in. Tig sat up, cupping the younger man's cheeks between his palms, forcing him to focus as the rest of their bunk mates scrambled around them. _

_"Get your shit," Tig commanded. "Wait for me by the door of the tent." He waited for the wide-eyed momma's boy to nod in recognition before slapping him gently on the cheek and pushing him from the bed. _

_Tig quickly pulled his own stuff together, ignoring the sounds of combat just outside the tent door. More mortars with an occasional hand grenade, followed by the rat-tat-tat of M16s were all ignored by Tig til he stepped out of the tent. He held his rifle loosely to his shoulder, ready for any enemy that popped up. His wide eyes surveyed the immediate area and saw nothing out of the ordinary. _

_Stepping towards the heart if the camp, in an attempt to find someone who knew what was going on, Tig tripped over something, sending him stumbling just a little. He continued walking, automatically assuming he had tripped over the guy wire of the tent, which was something he did half a dozen times a day._

_When he glanced briefly over his shoulder, he was suddenly struck by recognition, freezing him in place. It wasn't a guy wire. It was a boot. A boot on a foot. The foot was attached to a dead man laying in the shadows. A GI. Tig swallowed hard as he recognized the fresh off the plane hair cut._

_Turner._

_God dammit. It was Turner. _

Tig wiped at a tear for his long dead buddy, struggling to put that memory back in the lock box it came from. He stood and grabbed a pair of shorts. He then went about searching his room for the half a dozen handcuff keys he kept stashed about for both illicit and legal fun.


End file.
